Chapter 29 - Sasha
Chapter twenty-nine
I haven’t had this much trouble getting hard since…
well, ever. I don’t know where Blanche found the woman currently trying to suck me off, but I haven’t had a blow job this bad since I was a fumbling teen with the gardener’s daughter.
She’s enthusiastic enough, but my dick is refusing to show any signs of life.
When I asked Blanche for the contact information of any females she had in mind to act in our scene today, she eyed me warily before she gave me the phone numbers.
Before she could give me her opinion on bringing another woman in, even though Lucy isn’t interested in it, her office phone rang, and I was spared.
I heard everything she had to say just from her expression, though.
Do you really want to do this? Do you know what you’re doing?
The answer was and still is that I have no fucking clue.
I’ve felt like I have split personalities for days trying to sort through all my feelings on Lucy and Lawrence.
I can’t think too much about that now, though, because teeth are grazing my shaft in a way that even I find unbearable.
I love pain as much as the next guy, but Jesus.
“Denver, you gotta give me something here. Play with my balls or something, fuck.” If she can’t get her shit together, I’m moving on.
“It’s Monica, asshole,” she says, but she spits on me again and doubles her efforts, squeezing my balls hard enough that the average guy would probably tap out.
Fuck, I love it, though. It’s been too long since I’ve been properly Domme’d.
The pain is enough to stir some interest, and I’m finally getting hard as I look up to my captive audience.
Lucy sits strapped to a chair, fully clothed, gagged with Monica’s panties and staring at me with a mixture of hurt and hatred.
She didn’t speak when she came in today, and I found that I had very little to say to her either.
After my conversation with Blanche, I was rattled, torn between continuing my punishing campaign to drive Lucy out of my life and easing up on her because of what Blanche said about us being endgame.
Maybe that’s what has my dick so confused.
She’s angry and snarling behind her gag, but when I caress Monica’s head and tell her she’s a good girl, I see tears streaking down my Sunshine’s face. I feel satisfaction at hurting her, pride that she still wants me enough to be jealous, and guilt that I’m the reason my girl is crying…
“Mmm, yeah, Daddy, you gonna fuck me with this cock? I’ve worked so hard for it.”
The whiny voice of the woman on her knees before me brings me back to the moment. Something about hearing her sends me back into my spiral, and I choose to follow the path of my anger, pushing my regret as deep inside as I can.
The rage feels cathartic, magnificent as it licks up my spine. I catch Lucy’s eye and wrap my hands around the back of Monica’s head.
“Open wide.”
That’s all the warning she gets before I’m in the back of her throat, fucking as deeply as I can and enjoying hearing her heaving gags around my girth.
Nails dig into my thighs, but she doesn’t tap out.
Lucy shakes in her chair, obviously not enjoying the show.
Even the tight resistance of the throat I’m fucking isn’t enough to mentally get over the fact that this isn’t my Sunshine.
Everything about this feels wrong and unnatural.
Fuck her for doing this to me. I refuse to believe that she’s ruined me for any other woman.
I can’t live life like this. I refuse. My dick softens in the back of Monica’s throat, and I’m done.
Pulling out, I reach behind me for the familiar handgun I’ve been keeping extra close lately and put a bullet between her eyes.
It’s really a public service. Now she can’t ruin anyone else’s day with her terrible fucking blow jobs.
I keep my eyes on Lucy as hers go wide, screaming around her gag and thrashing as if to escape.
I can’t help but laugh. She looks so cute struggling, like she has a tenth of the strength needed to get out of my knots.
But she’s trying her hardest. So adorable.
I can’t help but drink her in, fully clothed and writhing in front of me as I stand fully naked.
My dick decides this is what he was after and stands at full attention.
“She was doing a bad job, baby. She had to go. Don’t pretend you care. I saw how mad you were that she had her mouth on me.”
Another death stare is her only response, jaw clenched around her mouth full of panties.
“Does her cunt taste good, at least? I wanted to make sure you felt included.”
God, her hatred is delicious. Maybe better than her tears. She looks like she would fight me to the death if I released her right now. Maybe I should.
“She definitely didn’t have the set of tits on her that you do, Sunshine. I think a better view might help me out.”
Grabbing my favorite knife from a side table, I enjoy the fear in her eyes before slicing down her shirt, going back to snap her bra open and let her tits fall free. Pulling her yoga pants away from her body, I split them down the middle too, snapping her tiny thong with my hands, no blade needed.
“There, that’s better. You’re at least useful for something to look at, even if I’m not going to touch you.”
She eyes me warily, not sure of how I’ll be getting off without using her. Her gaze snaps to the dead body already cooling in a heap, then back to me.
“Jesus Christ, Lucy. No. I’m a sick fuck, but come on. No.”
Her relief is palpable as I hear a door click shut behind me.
“Ah, there’s my next slut. Come here, baby. Meet Lucy.”
Sean is an associate of my father’s, older than me and an intermittent partner of mine since he came on to me when I was eighteen.
He’s married to a woman and has kids, but fucks around exclusively with men on the side.
Lately, Dad has been filling me in on some of his less-than-savory exploits, and he’s finally pushed too far.
He needs to be put down before he can take advantage of any more of our younger associates.
Sean sucks a mean cock, though, so this is a perfect way to get a little more use out of him before he’s dispatched.
“Mmm, Sasha. It’s been too long since you’ve called me, darling. I was beginning to think you were tired of playing with me.”
Ugh, I’m already annoyed by his presence. Not too much longer, though. He’s lucky he’s managed to stay clean all these years, or I might’ve had him tortured before killing him. As it is, he gets to go out doing what he loves.
“Shut up and get on your knees, Sean. I didn’t invite you here to talk.”
The brat rolls his eyes at me, but does as I say, ignoring Lucy because he knows what’s good for him. Before he can start working his magic, though, I decide to introduce them.
“Actually, slut, turn around and look at who we’re putting on a show for.”
He obediently turns on his knees, a smug look on his face as he takes her in, clothes in tatters and beautifully debauched.
“Hi, bitch. Thanks for fucking up so I could have this cock to myself.”
I forgot what an asshole he can be. I’d chastise him, but since he doesn’t have long to live, I don’t see the point. He’s out of time to learn any lessons. Lucy’s eyes are narrowed again, and I pat Sean on the cheek to get his attention back where it belongs.
“That’s enough. Come here and do what I keep you around for.”
I try to keep my eyes on Lucy, but I forgot just how good Sean is at sucking cock.
He lives for it and prides himself on how many men he’s made bi-curious by being so much more intuitive about what feels good than their wives ever were.
He takes me into his throat immediately, and my eyes roll back into my head as he swallows rhythmically.
Maybe I won’t kill him after all. Fuck. Maybe I can just chain him up in a basement somewhere with the other guys we use to train new interrogators. It’ll be a worse fate for him than death, but as long as he’s healthy enough to do this…
I lose myself in the sensation, languidly thrusting in and out of his mouth as he expertly brings me to the brink and backs off, remembering that I enjoy being edged.
I need to play more with the men in our scenes and not let Lucy hog them.
She hasn’t gotten to see me at my fully bisexual best, and I wonder if she’d like it.
Would she like getting herself off while watching me fuck another man? Or I could bottom while she rides me…
My orgasm hits me like a freight train, out of nowhere and with a force I wasn’t expecting. I almost forget myself and the one gift I’m giving my Sunshine tonight.
“Do not swallow,” I growl out, enjoying the last few moments of my release. “Go show your new friend what I gave you and share with her. You know where to put it.”
Sean looks put out that he can’t swallow the cum he earned, but he’s a good boy and does as he’s told.
Crawling over to Lucy, he wastes no time pulling her to the edge of her seat.
The angle isn’t great, though, so I cut through the binds of her legs and stand behind her, pulling her open for him.
Immediately, he moves to her cunt, spitting every bit of my cum into her.
I’m enjoying the sight of myself spilling out of her, reveling in how right it looks, when Sean seals his fate.
He must enjoy the visual too, or decide he’s not giving up all of his reward, and dives in to feast on Lucy’s pussy.
He cleans her up, then moves to give attention to her clit while reaching a hand up as if to breach the hole that belongs to me.
He never gets close. The second shot of the night echoes through the room as he falls back. I rip out Lucy’s gag so I can hear the full force of her scream. It feels better than I thought it would to finally kill Sean, and I savor the moment as I enjoy the screams that turn into whimpers.
“What is wrong with you?” Lucy’s whisper breaks the silence, and I turn to see her slumped in the chair, looking defeated.
Her center shines with my release, and my soul thrums with pleasure at the sight.
After I’ve looked my fill, I move to cut her free from her bonds, dick twitching back to life when she shivers at the cool kiss of the flat of my knife.
“What’s wrong with me?” I taunt, enjoying the fact that she’s free now but hasn’t moved a muscle. “You’re the one who killed two people tonight, Sunshine. I think the better question is what’s wrong with you?”
“Me? How in the hell do you think you’re going to stand here and accuse me of—”
I’m basking in her anger, enjoying the way her blush rises from her chest and up her neck, when my ringing cell phone cuts through the tension of the room.
The interruption is what I need to get myself together, and I leave her sitting to go deal with business.
I try to convince myself I don’t care if she’s still here when I get back, but it’s impossible.
If she leaves, I’ll chase. She can’t get away from me now.